Fear, Faith, and Freedom
by Sidney Ella Ford
Summary: After a fatefull night when Nessie is mugged in Seattle, she has a hard time overcoming her fear of physical contact of any kind. Jacob only wants her to be happy, and is distraught by the lack of trust she has for him. / AH.AU. Warning: light violence


**Yes, another one... I know, I know. I have way too many I'm working on at once, but if you loved in my computer you'd understand. And yes. Another Jacob/Nessie angst. It's just so dang easy to manipulate them to be depressable. Well, you know the drill, I don't own it, and I think I'll dedicate it to... Hmm... Well, given the subject matter, to anyone who's ever had something like this happen to them. BTW, it's not mature, and while it goes into great detail of what happened, it's nothing you don't see on Law and Order. Actually, this would be a very toned down episode of the show, if you think about it. Don't worry, faithful readers, this will be the only chapter with anything unlike what I've written before. **

Don't let my façade fool you. I may look fine, happy, and normal, but my heart is full of turmoil and pain. No one seems to really get that I'm lying, and it's beginning to wear on my heart. The one person I want to fool is the only one who sees through me, and it hurts me that it hurts him.

"Nessie, baby, please don't be scared of me," he whispers, brushing a lock of my hair gently back from my face. We're in my kitchen, sitting across the table from each other.

I flinch as a recollection of a very different hand doing the exact same thing takes over my memory. He nods in understanding, then sits back submissively, allowing me to see that he means no harm. _He_ knows. He gets it. He's the one who knows my darkest fears, and the truth of what happened that fateful night that took away every ounce of bravery I had.

"I'm so sorry."

**JNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJN**

It was late, and we were in Seattle, shopping for my birthday. It was the weekend after it, and after all the Sweet Sixteen cash I'd accumulated, my aunt felt that some additions should be made to my wardrobe. I was catching up to her on the sidewalk, having lagged behind when I got distracted by a puppy on his owner's leash. I was about five yards behind her when a hand grabbed my shirt collar and dragged me into an alley.

"What do we have here?" a fairly handsome young man said, tracing my cheek with a sooty finger, brushing some of my bronze locks from my eyes. He had a drunken sound about him, and was wearing dark shades that covered half of his face. "How old are you, doll face?"

I gulped and shook my head, willing myself to call for help.

"Oh, come on, doll face," he said, smirking maliciously. "I don't bite. Hard. Give me a name."

I was slowly losing oxygen, trying not to inhale the stench of alcohol on his breath. I shook my head again, again attempting a scream.

He realized what the mewling sounds from my throat were, then grabbed my neck. "Listen to me and you'll be okay. If you resist… Well, I have a friend that _loves _little girls. Tell me your name."

I gasped for breath when he let me go. "Alice!" I was trying to scream it, trying to draw her attention, but she was most likely long gone. "Alice, help!"

He gripped my neck and slammed me into the alley wall. "You asked for it," he growled, forcing his alcohol permeated mouth on mine.

I screamed, trying to fight him off, but it was no use. He grabbed my thigh through the fabric of my jeans, then his other hand released my neck and hunted the buttons of my shirt. I thrashed and kicked, but he had made my more accessible leg immobile with his wondering hands, and I was balanced on my other. My hands went to yank his hair, but I failed, ending up with my hands secured above my head. I scratched at his hands, trying to free myself. If worse came to worse, at least they'd have his DNA if they found my body. When he realized -in his drunken haze- what I was doing, he slammed my head into the alley wall, and my world began to darken more so than it already was by night.

"Now you can't stop me," he growled, finding my shirt buttons again.

I collapsed, irritating him further at the loss of contact. He kicked my stomach, then kicked my head back into the wall again. When I fell so I was completely on the dirty alley floor, he reached down and slammed my head into the hard ground.

"Try to remember anything, now," he said, kicking my stomach one last time.

"Freeze!" a loud voice called, and there was a bright light of a flashlight.

The drunk guy glared at me on the ground, then turned to run, only to be pinned by another cop. "We got him!"

"Nessie!" I heard Aunt Alice's voice scream. "Honey…" She was then kneeling over me, holding my head. "She's bleeding! Someone help me! My niece is bleeding!"

The last thing I was aware of was feeling something warm and sticky in my hair.

**JNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJN**

They never caught him, and I'd been terrified of the night ever since. And of physical contact of any kind. My family thought I couldn't remember it, since I'd gotten a pretty gnarly concussion from his brutal slams of my head to the ally wall and floor. Only Jacob knew the truth, and he was sworn to secrecy by myself.

"_Never_ be sorry, Nessie," he says, looking as though he wants to reach out to me. He knows that's a bad idea, though.

I looked at my lap, then I peek at him through my eyelashes. "Jacob, I understand if you want to see someone else. I mean, we only went out a few months, and I'm not sure when I'll be comfortable being at all physical again."

He stands and slowly walks around the table, kneeling in front of my chair and holding out a hand, opened loosely, so as to not frighten me. I had been cautious of giving anyone a chance to have any power over my body.

I fearfully place my forefinger on his palm, looking into his eyes.

"Nessie," he says lowly, leaving his hand loose and open. "You deserve someone to stick with you through this. Please let me be that person. I couldn't be with anyone else after all we've been through."

I blink back tears, then look swallow hard. "I don't want to lose you because of something so silly. I'm trying to be the way I was. I _want _to kiss you and hug you, but I can't. I can't be a normal high school sweetheart. I'm just being a stupid little drama queen."

"You being attacked isn't silly," he argues, his voice gentle and pleading. "Baby, you're so much more than a high school sweetheart. When you were in that hospital, I was inconsolable. I sat in the waiting room with the rest of the team and just _cried_ in front of all the guys. _They_ knew my feelings for you justified my tears. If that's not special -a football player crying with no gay-jokes being made about him- I don't know what is. I thought I'd never hold you again."

I nod slowly, gently slipping another finger over his palm. "I want you to hold me, but I'm just so scared…"

"It's okay," he whispers softly. "Please don't be afraid of me."

I swallow and let a few tears out. "I'm sorry, Jacob."

**A/N: Well, I'm sorry for the switches in tenses. It won't happen again, I don't think. It just worked here. Realtime of how she acts, you know? Well, more soon. Reviews, please. **

**~Sidney**


End file.
